


and the world waves back.

by plasters



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Character Analysis, Character Study, Introspection, No Dialogue, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:49:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28497849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plasters/pseuds/plasters
Summary: who is shirogane tsumugi? she, herself, can't seem to figure it out.
Kudos: 10





	and the world waves back.

**Author's Note:**

> drv3 spoilers ahead- read at ur own risk lol

Shirogane Tsumugi found her current situation close to humorous. Only she could wind up getting killed by the very thing she devoted her life and soul to, the thing she cherished more than anything. 

She couldn’t help but stifle a giggle. 

Here she was, as hopeless as always, breathing in the dusty debris of what once was The Ultimate Academy. She looked back fondly (fondly?) on the sleepless nights she spent planning this very game, the game that has betrayed her, the game that has brought her life to its end. All those years preparing costumes and scripts and music and it all went to nothing. A fitting end for her, she supposes. Maybe this is what she deserves?

She stares down at the dust covering her mary janes.

There, hazy in the distance, stood her most prized possessions. The survivors, of course, looking at her in a way she could only wish to call despair-inducing. She waves, maybe to them, maybe not; her face at a permanent melancholic rest. She had planned for more of them originally, you see. Statistics showed the audience prefers seasons with more survivors. But that doesn’t really matter now, does it? It’s all over now. (not to say it still doesn’t drive a rancorous pit up her throat when she thinks about it) (she couldn’t help but think what the ratings would be right now if the world was watching)

(is this all my fault?)

(maybe.)

(definitely.)

She doesn’t stop waving.

Shirogane Tsumugi is her work before she is herself. 

(she is anyone else before she is herself)

She is her plotlines, her character arcs, her costume designs, her writers’ block. She lives through her characters; her characters live through her. 

So, now, with everything she formerly was gone; who was she?

Who is she now, in this moment?

Despite all her efforts will she always be who she’s always been? The boring, the dreadful, the painfully quixotic Tsumugi?

And in these last moments she is forced to admit that no matter how hard she tries to forget who she is, how desperately she tries to be something she is not, she will always be herself.

But being herself is scary. How can she be something that she isn’t sure even really exists? Shirogane Tsumugi exists solely as a concept. As some sort of test. 

“What happens when we take a mentally ill teenage girl and tell her she can play god with no consequence? No- with bountiful rewards?”

(only she knows)

Tsumugi only knows she is a cheap imitation. A hollow echo of the real thing. She is but a mockery. 

She is everything she hated; everything she loved. Everything and nothing and all that's in between. She is everything she cherished so dearly, everyone who died at her hands. Who she is is only the inevitable conclusion for someone like her. In this moment Shirogane Tsumugi is facing death and life and hatred and love and warmth and chills and she can’t get herself to smile. She wants to grin and laugh and 

She has yet to stop waving, she’s come to realize.

Pressure builds up inside her stomach, reaching its arms up into lungs and throats and hearts, busting at every seam. Burning black tar fills her mouth. She feels everything coming down around her, everything she was, everything she had.

In this moment she is Shirogane Tsumugi and she is truly alone.

She is raw and exposed and evil and her. And Tsumugi sees. She sees who she is, finally, after all these years. Who she is is what she longed for. Who she is is the missed chance, the unavoidable disappointment, the bare ugliness of the human heart. She reaches towards the firmament, she feels its grey clouds between her fingertips. Her arm is impossibly heavy. 

She wonders who she's waving to.

The survivors?

Herself?

Me?

(them)

(the audience)

(my world)

And the world waves back to Shirogane Tsumugi.

**Author's Note:**

> kinnie vent time :smirk:


End file.
